


Saoirse

by queen_scribbles



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 11:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16554812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: @pillarspromptsweekly fill #59: Remember. I’m going with the way Saoirse Ronan pronounces Saoirse(SEER-shuh), since she’s where I got the idea from, but if you say it differently in your head that’s cool, too. :)





	Saoirse

**Author's Note:**

> @pillarspromptsweekly fill #59: Remember. I’m going with the way Saoirse Ronan pronounces Saoirse(SEER-shuh), since she’s where I got the idea from, but if you say it differently in your head that’s cool, too. :)

 

If Elihu fell behind one more time, she was going to leave him, Galawain as her witness. Saoirse huffed in frustration, the agitated breath pushing cinnamon brown curls out of her eyes. She wanted to show _someone_ the estramorwn ruin, and who better than him, right?

Had she realized what his travel pace was going to be, she’d have brought someone faster. Like Jago’s pet turtle.

“El!” Saoirse hollered, only feeling slightly bad when he flinched, a vibrant butterfly flitting away from one of the flowers growing near his laft ear. She kicked the dirt to hide her embarrassment and raked her hair back again. “Hurry up or it’ll be too dark to see anything by the time we get there!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Elihu replied, green of his eyes deepening in amusement as he caught up to her. “Gods, I know you’re excited, Saoirse, but _you_ know I stop for butterflies.” He shot her a teasing grin. “You’ve _only_ had four decades to account for extra time when we travel together.”

Saoirse rolled her eyes and twitched her wrist so the bracelets encroaching on her hand slid back down her arm. “And _you_ know you don’t have to stop every time.” It was wasted breath and she knew it; the only thing in this life more sure than her dragging Elihu on adventures was him pausing to indulge the winged insects who mistook his head or arms for flora and fauna. “And for the record, I did account extra time, just not _this much_.”

“Saoirse, my darling, my dearest, my brave adventurer,” Elihu chuckled. “It’s a ruin, love, it’s not going anywhere.”

“But the daylight is,” she said emphatically, jerking her head toward the sky.  “Hence my worry about it getting _dark_. And we don’t know what might be in there, so I don’t want to burn through all my spells calling down sunbeams so I can see.”

“Maybe there will be torches,” he said helpfully as they crested a ridge, reaching for her hand. Saoirse gave it to him without a second thought. Forty years they’d been doing near everything together, the barky texture of his skin had long since ceased to phase her.

“And maybe next time the butterflies can just try to keep up,” she teased.

It wasn’t too much longer before their goal came into view: a wide river, strewn with rubble, and on the far side, the crumbling moss-grown walls of an estramorwn castle. The gates lay fallen in, and there were holes in the walls at several points, but it was still impressive enough to earn a whistle from Elihu.

“By the Builders,” he murmured. “You’d think they would guard a treasure like this with their lives...” 

Saoirse scoffed. “You know the estramorwn don’t respect their past like we do. Or, at least, like we _used_ to.”

“Saoirse, not this again.” He squeezed her hand and tugged her into motion toward the ruins.

She bit her lip and followed him. He was right, and besides, there was no one around she could try to persuade. He agreed with her, if less passionately. _“If nomads we must be, should we not at least try to stay closer to our roots?”_ She’d heard the history of places of places like Twin Elms and Rock of the Tears, and burned with mostly-quiet fury that the estramorwn had spread enough to edge the shrinking tribes of Eir Glanfath from their sacred sites.

But that was a concern to voice before Father headed to the next Gathering. Right now she was standing outside a ruin that _teemed_ with history; the last thing she wanted was to be distracted.

They made it across the river with relative ease, clambering from piece to piece of the crumbled bridge. Saoirse paused by the wall, scraping off moss and ivy to examine the stone underneath.

“El, look!” She pointed at the stone only a foot or so above their heads. “The kith who built it put their names.”

He joined her and brushed his hand over the timeworn carving, the millennia-old words barely legible. “They did fine work; it’s good they achieved some form of immortality.”

“Mmhm.” Her attention was already wandering through the tumbled gates, toward the collection of buildings protected within. She heard Elihu chuckle as he followed her through the overgrown arch.

“Where do you want to start?” he asked as the two of them stepped in to survey the layout of the castle.

“The big one, of course,” Saoirse smiled. She skirted the wreckage of an outdoor forum, its wooden seats long ago dry-rotted, and started hauling open the door of the main keep.

Elihu caught up in just a couple long legged strides and helped her pull open the heavy door. “Anything particular you’re expecting to find?”

“Rocks, moss, maybe a few artifacts that haven’t completely turned to dust yet?” she shrugged. “It’s been a few hundred years at least since anyone was in here. Who knows what shape they left it in.”

The main hall was fairly bare as they strolled up its length. Whoever had emptied it--looters or the former occupants--had done a good job. Still there was something about the room that called to her, as if she could feel the history of it swirling just below the surface. Close enough to reach out and touch, pulsing with familiar warmth.

Slightly offput by the familiarity of this room, but still curious, Saoirse detoured through one of the doors that opened off it. She found herself in a library, the shelves mostly empty. The few books that remained looked brittle, and one fell apart when she touched it. This room, too, felt familiar. Safe. Her chest tightened with emotions she could neither name nor explain. Taking slow breaths to calm herself, far more quietly than her norm, Saoirse ventured further into the library. She thought, ever so briefly, she glimpsed a dark-haired elven man reading at one of the tables. But that was ridiculous. This place had clearly been abandoned for at least a couple hundred years--

_“The whole keep is falling apart, but this room does seem to have been particularly neglected.”_

She flinched. “What?”

“What do you mean, _what_?” Elihu frowned. “I didn’t say anything.” He shot her a concerned look. “Hearing ghosts?”

“Very funny,” Saoirse sighed, tugging at one of her longer curls as she kept walking. It was a fairly basic library, if well crafted. Only the outside wall was anything special--half its width was covered by a cracking mosaic of adra pillars.

She froze at the sight of it. She _remembered_ that mosaic-- _”Gareth, it turned out wonderfully!”_ \--but how could she? The tightness in her chest morphed into a tingle, like a sleeping limb regaining circulation. She was vaguely aware of the quick scuff of Elihu’s feet as he came to an abrupt halt behind her, the soft rush of his breath on the back of her neck as he chuckled.

 _“Seeing another ghost?_ ” he teased, but the voice was only half his. The other half was deeper, but still warm, rich. Kind.

 _She started and heard the tumble of books hitting the floor. The deep, warm voice--_ Kana _, something in her prompted--was apologizing, but she was distracted by the books. Where had they come from? Where they there before? Either way, no sense leaving a mess. “It’s alright,” she replied, though the voice was too soft, too high. “And in a sense, yes? I was picturing what this place used to look like. What I want to make it look like again.” She cocked her head, smiling sheepishly. “Not that books have souls.”_

_“Well, you know what they say about good stories coming alive,” he said teasingly, setting the rescued books back on the table, and she laughed again.  
_

_“I’m tired of the library being so shabby, Kana,” she admitted. “I’m going to have the workmen fix it up next.”_

The... sensation faded abruptly as an elbow dug hard into her back. Saoirse rocked forward, arms jolting out to keep her balance.

“You alright? What was that?” Elihu demanded, brow wrinkled in concern.

“...Nothing,” she tried, rubbing her forehead.

“Nothing? Saoirse, you were still as a rock.” The concerned furrow deepened.  “You were just... staring at the wall. That doesn’t seem like nothing to me.” He circled in front of her and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Did you see something?”

Saoirse forced a smile and focused on staring at the mossy patches above his eyebrows rather than meet his gaze. “Just my imagination runnin’ a little wild. Come on, I don’t think there’s anything to find here.” She briefly pressed his hand closer to her cheek before turning on one heel and marching out of the library without a backward glance. The tight, agitated tingle in her chest didn’t go away when they returned to the main hall. Indeed, it almost seemed to grow stronger, drawing her... somewhere.

 _The dais_. She paced with confidence  toward the head of the room, eyes locked on the throne that waited upon the three-step rise. It was overgrown with lichen and ivy, but some hints of the ornate carving still peeked through. That was it, the source of the tug in her chest. The lichen came off far more easily than Saoirse expected, and her hand brushed the cool marble underneath--

“My lady, it’s so good to see you again!”

Saoirse jerked her hand back as if the stone had burned her at the soft yet delighted greeting. “Where-?”

Behind her, Elihu had tensed as well, both of them searching the chamber for whoever had spoken.

“I apologize,” the voice came again. It was close, Saoirse noted. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, it’s just been so long...”

“ _Startle_ ’s a better word than _frighten_ ,” Saoirse said, still scanning for the woman speaking. “And I’m no one’s lady-- ‘cept his, I guess” --she nodded jerkily toward Elihu-- “and I don’t know who you are, but I’m pretty damned sure we’ve never met.” She wasn’t, not after the library.

There was a soft laugh that sounded as if it came from the throne. “Not in this life, perhaps. But your soul is a beacon, my lady, I could not miss it if I wished to.”

Saoirse looked back at Elihu. He shrugged, raising his hands in a gesture of ignorance even as his eyes flared bright with curiosity that seemed for once the match of her own. “Is that right? I’d think being... acquainted with a castle would be a memory that managed to poke through.”

“Souls are funny things sometimes.” The voice, which sounded amused, was definitely coming from the marble throne. 

Saoirse knelt on the seat and swiped at the lichen and ivy until it was mostly cleared away. The tingle in her chest grew stronger as she sat back with lichen under her nails to survey her handiwork. The throne was carved to resemble a woman, her arms the arms of the throne, her head and shoulders rising behind whoever occupied it. 

The throne gave a gentle, almost motherly, chuckle. “Ah, an elf this time.”

Saoirse frowned, playing with one of her bracelets as she parroted, “This time?”

Before the throne--statue?--woman could reply, the tingle in her chest erupted like flames catching tinder. Right before her eyes, the ivy and other growths vanished, though the hall still lay in ruins, covered in dust but bathed in a pale blue light.

_“Another Watcher in Caed Nua. Glowing very brightly indeed to these eyes. A strange happenstance.”  
_

_“Who are you?”_ The question and the voice were both hers but someone else’s, as was the underlying curiosity. The same soft voice from the library, in fact. When she flinched in surprise at that, it shifted her arm into her peripheral vision. Only, it wasn’t _**her**_ arm; lightly tanned and perpetually sporting bruises and scrapes from time spent outside. It was blue, marked by swirling silver designs, the wrist scarred under a trio of woven bracelets much like the ones Saoirse herself wore. She remembered the answer to her question even as a hand rested on her shoulder.

“Saoirse. _**Saoirse**_.” Elihu shook her gently. “Are you alright.”

She blinked and the ivy was back, curling around everything. Keeping her gaze on the marble throne, Saoirse raised one hand to cover the one Elihu had rested on her shoulder. She gave it a reassuring squeeze as she spoke to the statue.  “Steward.”

“You remember.” The Steward’s tone was wistful. “I’m unsure whether to be grateful or apologize that our connection had such consequences for you.”

Saoirse shook her head. “I... don’t think it was you,” she said slowly. Her mind was reeling from a literal lifetime’s worth of new memories, but she was pretty confident in that. “I think it’s just... being here.” She glanced around the hall, chest aching with remembered care. “The life that knew you... She bonded strongly to this place.” It wasn’t a question.

 “Moreso than any of the occupants before or since,” the Steward confirmed fondly.

“This was her home, in a way few ever find it,” Saoirse murmured, the ache flaring into pride at her home. But it wasn’t. It had been this past life’s, the Watcher. _Lucky woman._

“Yes,” the Steward said, her voice warm with memory. “Lady Emiri fought very hard for this place. She even rebuilt it, twice. She was quite happy here, and I hoped...” She hesitated. “It might be foolish, but I did hope that bond would draw her--you--back. So I could see what you made of yourself in whichever life returned here. I take it from your attire you’re Glanfathan now?”

Saoirse nodded. “Trained as a druid, yes. My father is anamfath of the Twice- Split Arrow” --she squeezed Elihu’s hand again-- “Welcomers of outcasts.”

“A fine life.” The Steward’s voice brimmed with motherly pride. “It does me good to see you so happy, my lady.”

“Just Saoirse,” she corrected with  a chuckle. “Like I said, I’m no one’s lady.”

“If that is your wish, I will respect it, but you will always be my lady, Saoirse.”

“I’ve always wanted the loyalty of a ruined, sentient castle,” Saoirse joked. “I imagine there’s lots of exploring to be done here?”

“Oh, yes. A few parts have fallen into dangerous disrepair, however, so I would advise caution.”

“And the full light of day,” Elihu murmured in her ear. “If we’re not back soon, the rìow will start worrying.”

He was right and she knew it. The light was fading fast and this part of the Dyrwood teemed with predators at night. “Well, then I’ll have plenty of excuse to come visit, won’t I?” she said, both to him and the Steward.

“Oh, my-- Saoirse. I would appreciate that very much.” The Steward sounded so happy, Saoirse half expected her to start beaming, despite being made of marble.

“Alright, then. I have to train new druids tomorrow, but the day after, I’ll be back.”

“ _We’ll_ be back,” Elihu corrected. His hand slid from her shoulder down her arm, fingers linking with her own. “Exploring’s not a thing to undertake solo, Saoirse. And this place _is_ fascinating. I’ll come with you.”

She flashed him a giddy grin before turning back to the Steward. “So you’ll see both of us the day after tomorrow, then.”

“I will look forward to it,” the Steward replied. The marble expression didn’t change, but her voice carried a smile.

After a beat more hesitation, bouncing slightly in excitement, Saoirse tugged Elihu’s hand and the two of them headed out the way they’d come. Elihu ducked as they passed through the doorway, narrowly missing a trail of ivy trying to snag on his horns.

Outside was darker than expected when they exited the hall, and Saoirse shifted by reflex into her cat form, removing any concern about seeing. She could only hold it long enough to get them back to the forest, but that was better than picking  their way across the rubble-strewn river _blind_.

“Well, that was..  an adventure,” Elihu said dryly, clasping her hand once more as they strolled briskly through the woods back towards camp. “Not every day you meet a talking statue.”

“Yeah,” Saoirse mumbled. She could feel Emiri’s sense pressing close to the surface, near-bubbling with excitement over something; though whether a memory or something else she couldn’t tell. The feeling of overwhelming, giddy joy only increased when Elihu squeezed her hand. Apparently her past Lady Watcher life had some strong, fond emotions tied to walking through this part of Dyrwood.

_“It’s not where you are, it’s who you’re with, right?” that soft voice from inside the keep laughed in her mind.  
_

_“I would have to agree with you,” the deep, kind one Emiri remembered as Kana replied, his tone light and happy. “Good company can vastly improve all manner of circumstances, and yours is among the very best, Emiri.”_

Saoirse felt the thrill Emiri was quick to tamp down as she shyly mumbled _yours as well_ and bit back a smile. _Oh, that’s **cute**. She was sweet on him. Wonder if she ever did anything about it. And why I’m seeing that now... _She glanced at her hand, still clasped in Elihu’s.

_“It’s not where you are, it’s who you’re with.”_

She grinned as glimmering suspicion turned to near-surety. _Well, even if she didn’t, **I** sure did. _Impulsively, she pulled Elihu closer and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for having my back, El.”

He chuckled, and she could feel his bemused gaze as he squeezed her hand again. “Always,” he promised.

Warm as the sentiment had made her in the past, this time Saoirse couldn’t help but smirk. _Darling, you have no idea._

**Author's Note:**

> ~Obviously someone somewhere found a way to fix the, uh, Events of Deadfire’s ending. Not necessarily Emiri, just someone.
> 
> ~Saoirse and Elihu are both elves(Elihu is a nature godlike) and are childhood sweethearts
> 
> ~Yes, Elihu absolutely has Kana’s soul like Saoirse has Emiri’s. This is not necessarily Soul Twin-ness and is more I wanted to do something nice for my girl after the frankly ridiculous amount of crap she goes through as Emiri  
> So, yes, I gave her the guy she liked in a later life where both of them will live to be 250. Ish. They’ll be gloriously happy together and adopt kids and fluff will abound and no one can stop me. NO ONE.
> 
> ~Saoirse’s Awakened soul falls somewhere between what the Watcher gets with the Inquisitor and Aloth gets with Iselmyr(Emiri’s memories are more frequent, Saoirse gets a few little cipher powers on top of her druidic abilities, but Emiri’s voice isn’t ever gonna come spouting out Saoirse’s mouth)
> 
> ~I sort of played with the future of the world, since this is a good 500-ish years down the road, but I really wanted the Current Life to be Glanfathan, bc I think their culture is neat
> 
> ~All of the things Saoirse “remembers” in Caed Nua are from my fics or the game itself. There’s one from Secrets and two from Stories, then her conversation with the Steward is game dialogue. That last one(”It’s not where you are...”) isn’t, but now I wanna make it be


End file.
